Of Dresses and Dreams
by Stargate-Lover-Steph
Summary: A short add on to the episode Thin Air, caused mostly by the look Frankie gave Boyd when he it was revealed he had let Clara Gold wear the dress.


"I'll go after him," Frankie said as she saw Spencer walking back to join the group stood on the pavement.

Grace, Mel and Spencer just looked at her, all with a look of sympathy on their faces. Frankie removed her hands from her pockets, pulling her jumper sleeves further down to cover her hands. As she crossed the road she turned to look back at her colleagues, all still watching her as she walked into the park heading in the same direction as Peter Boyd had marched off in.

She walked on, the cold winter air biting at her exposed cheeks and ears. She looked through the trees, scanning all around her as she walked. He had only marched off a few minutes before she went after him, he couldn't be that far ahead of her. By the time she reached Hampstead Heath she still hadn't caught up with him, and he wasn't on the immediate path in front of her. She continued walking, the wind now blowing strongly across the open heath. When she hit the crest of the hill she looked across the open fields and down the pathway, checking every bench along the path. She finally spotted him, sat hunched over on a bench halfway along the path. She shoved her freezing hands deep in her pockets and marched towards him. There weren't many people out on the heath, only one or two people walking dogs.

When she finally reached the bench she stopped, looking him up and down as he sat staring off into the distance. She took a seat beside him, shuffling as close to him as she could get without actually sitting on him. She leaned against him, her head resting on his shoulder more for warmth than anything else. They sat in silence, both looking out over the windswept heath. It was Boyd who broke the silence.

"I used to bring Luke here sometimes, weekends and after school, whenever I had time off." Leaning his head against Frankies as he spoke.

Frankie didn't reply, just reached out and took his hand in hers, their fingers interlinking.

"We used to play football, fly a kite, throw a frisbee about. He loved coming up here, and so did I." The pain and loss thick in his voice.

Frankie squeezed his hand in understanding, no words were needed at all. After several minutes Frankie shivered, the wind blowing harder as afternoon turned to evening. Boyd looked down at Frankie, her body impossibly close to his as she tried to fend off the cold.

"Let's get out of here. I'm in enough shit as it is without a home office worker dying of hypothermia on my watch." Standing up and pulling Frankie up with him.

Walking slowly back towards the Golds house and Boyd's car, Frankie again snuggled up to Boyd, her arm going around his waist as she again rested her head on his shoulder. Boyd mimicked her actions, wrapping his arm around her waist so she was flush against his side. The last few days had been a whirlwind of conflict and emotions, not just for Boyd but for the team as well. Yet here he was, walking across Hampstead Heath with Frankie still at his side. They hadn't really spoken much since she found out Clara Gold had hit on him, or since the whole dress fiasco had been revealed. She could have walked away, should have walked away, when the others did. But Frankie was Frankie, and he knew that she wouldn't give up on him, she hadn't once before, and she most certainly hadn't now.

When they reached Boyd's car they saw that the rest of the team had left. Out of instinct, Boyd looked up at the Golds house, his eyes drawn to what he knew as Joanna's bedroom. He was sure he caught a glimpse of Clara watching him, watching them, as he steered Frankie around to the passenger side and held the door open for her to get in. By the time he reached the driver's door and looked up, there was no one at the window, or there hadn't been in the first place and it was just his imagination playing tricks.

"We going back in?" Frankie asked as Boyd drove through the rush hour traffic.

"Yeah, you don't mind do you?" Looking across at Frankie as they sat ideally as a red light.

"No, but would be nice to get home at a sensible hour for a change." Seeing the lights finally change to green and Boyd look back at the road.

Frankie looked out the window, the city slowly passing by as they drove. When the car was finally parked and they got out it had been over an since they had seen Mel, Spencer and Grace. They were all still inside, their cars being the last few left in the car park. Frankie got out the car and stood waiting for Boyd, watching as he took longer than normal to get out and lock up. When he did join her he still seemed apprehensive, like he was expecting someone or something to erupt. They stood shoulder to shoulder, walking in silence into the building, down the stairs, and through the maze of corridors. He stopped just outside the main doors leading into the cold case units office and looked inside, seeing Mel, Spencer and Grace all sat around the big desks.

"You want me to stay?" Looking up at Boyd as he weighed up his options.

"No, you go pack up, this is something I have to do on my own. But thanks." His fingers brushing hers just before he pushed open the door in front of him and stepped inside.

Everyone turned to look at them, Frankie giving a quick hi everyone before she darted through the doors leading to her lab. She was not sticking around, she needed her own space, her own thoughts about the past few days still swirling around giving her trouble. Boyd could handle himself, he just needed to speak to everyone and explain things. Frankie set about boxing up all the evidence, leaving the famous red dress until last. As she laid it out on the table to fold it she mentally picture Boyd chasing after Clara Gold, the dress blowing freely in the wind. Her skin crawled, how could he betray her like that, both professionally and personally.

When the dress was neatly folded up with all the other evidence, Frankie taped the boxes shut, sealing them ready to be transported to archives, or wherever solved case boxes went. When she was done she sat down and rested her arms on the table, leaning forward so her head partly rested on the cool surface. She heard the door to the lab click then swish open, but she didn't sit up to look and see who it was. It wasn't until Grace appeared in her field of vision did she sit up.

"Frankie, is it even worth me asking how you're doing?" Seeing Frankie sigh and cover her face with her hands.

"God Grace, I have no idea. Should I be mad, sad, relieved, happy? I just have no idea what to feel overall off this." Removing her hands from her face before she spoke. "I'm not sure what stings the most, Grace. The dress, the way he just followed her blindly, or the way she looked at him and he looked at her when it was all over." Frankie admittedly to Grace.

"I can't tell you how to feel, but you do need to talk him, about everything, don't leave anything out. Let him know what's bothering you, why you feel the way you do." Resting her hands on top of Frankie's on the tabletop.

"Thanks, Grace. I just want to understand why, why he did it. Has he spoken to you yet?" Seeing Grace smile a little at the question.

"Oh yes, I made him see me first. Prepared him for what was coming from the others. You know he's a complicated man, you've known that longer than any of us. Let him explain, he does get there eventually, just takes him a little longer to admit he was wrong." Seeing Frankie shake her head as she listened. "He was in with Spencer when I left, then he's seeing Mel. Do you want a lift home? I'm done for the night so can drop you off if you want."

"Yeah, that would be great. I don't really want to hang around here waiting for him." Frankie admitted, knowing what she said to Grace would go no further.

"Meet me outside in ten?" Grace asked as she let go of Frankie's hands.

Frankie just nodded her head in response before turning to watch Grace leave. She went around the lab switching everything off, her heart and mind still smarting from what Boyd had done. Before she pushed the doors open leading to the squad room she checked where everyone was. Spencer was tidying his desk but Mel was nowhere in sight. She craned her neck and spotted the back of Mel's head, sitting in the chair opposite Boyds. So he was nearly done with his explanations to everyone, only her left. Pushing the door open she saw Spence look up at her, his eyes darting between her and Boyds office.

"Night, Spence, see you tomorrow," Frankie said, trying to sound cheerful.

"Night, Frankie," Spencer replied, a sad tone to his voice.

Frankie made her way through the dark and quiet building, listening for any sound or people either in front of behind her. She reached the main doors and pulled one open, stepping outside into the dark, cold night.

"Over here, Frankie," Grace called out from her car.

Frankie walked over and smiled at Grace as she climbed in, the car engine already ticking over. When she had her seatbelt on Grace looked around before pulling away, probably making sure Boyd hadn't followed her out. Grace tried making conversion the way home but Frankie easily deflected the conversation or answered as plain and simple as she could, shutting the whole thing down. When she finally arrived at the ever looming townhouse Grace hesitated, watching as Frankie had an internal battle with herself.

"The longer you put it off the worse it will get. Be there when he comes in, deal with it, and then move on." Grace suggested, knowing Frankie's train of thought without having to ask.

"You're right, it's just, I have no idea what I'm going to say to him. On the heath before, it was easy. He was so lost in his own problems I could support him, be there for them. Then he does stupid things like this and I have no idea how to deal with him." Frankie admitted, the defeat evident in her voice.

"You'll know when you see him. Go on, get inside. You've probably got an hour tops before he's back. I'll see you tomorrow." Giving Frankie's arm a gentle squeeze as she went to get out.

Frankie was just about the close the door when Grace called out to her.

"And Frankie, good luck."

Frankie stood and watched Grace drive off, turning back to the big dark house and sighing. When she shut the front door behind she shivered, the place was freezing. She took off her coat and shoes before running upstairs to switch the heating on, she was not going to sit and freeze while she waited for him. After a shower, she pulled on her big fluffy pyjamas and ordered pizza. He had nothing in to eat as usual and she was not waiting for him to return.

When the pizza arrived she placed it on the kitchen table and went to get a plate. She was so occupied by eating the pizza she didn't hear the front door open then close, the sound of the tv drowning out the noise.

"There you are." He said as he stepped into the living room.

Frankie nearly dropped the can of coke she was holding, Boyd's sudden appearance giving her a fright.

"Shit, Boyd. I nearly threw me can at you." Seeing the look on his face at the word can.

"Can of coke, Boyd, I'm not that stupid." Holding up the can for him to see.

"I knew that." Walking up to her and looking down at the pizza box on the table. "What we got to eat, I'm starving." Flipping the lid on the pizza box as he sat down beside her.

Frankie turned to look at him and couldn't help the small smiled that tugged at her lips. His suit jacket and tie were gone, so was his shoes. His belt had been loosened slightly and his shirt sleeves rolled up to the elbow. How come no matter what he wore, or didn't wear, he looked good. Frankie mentally kicked herself for thinking such things, she was still mad with him. She sat back and pulled a cushion from behind her, hugging it close to her chest as she ignored Boyd and continued watching whatever was on the tv. She watched him out the corner of her eye, saw him finish both the pizza and her can coke before slumping back to sit beside her.

"Frankie." He called out after several minutes of just watching her.

She didn't answer him, just turned so she was looking at him.

"I don't, I have no, I had no, I have no excuses." His words coming out confused and unfinished. "I'm truly sorry, Frankie. You know that right?" Looking at Frankie as she processed his words.

Frankie sighed and sat forward, turning so she was sideways on the settee, her legs crossed under her. She looked Boyd up and down before shaking her head.

"For what?" She finally managed to ask as they stared at each other.

Boyd didn't seem to understand what she was asking as he looked at her blankly.

"What are you sorry for, Peter?" The use of his given name being a clear warning.

Boyd swallowed hard and considered his options, weighing up the best way to tell her. In the end, he gave up and just spat the whole lot out, explaining in his own way.

"I thought by entertaining Clara she would give me information, help me fill in the blanks. And she did help, did slip me small pieces of information." Looking up to see the storm brewing in Frankie a dark eyes.

"So hitting on a young girl just out of school is acceptable now is it?" The bite to Frankie's tone not going unnoticed.

"No, of course, it not, but I didn't see any other way. She knew things we didn't, and that was the way to get her to talk." His own voice sounding alien to his own ears as he tried to explain what an arse he'd been.

"What about the dress? I can never, and will never, come up with a good enough excuse for you to screw up, and in my lab too. Jesus Boyd, what the hell were you thinking?" Frankie asked exasperatedly.

"I clearly wasn't. I was trying to keep her on side, so she'd keep feeding me info." Hoping she believed him as she considered his words.

"Is clearly not thinking also an excuse for letting her come on to you?" Boyd's hands coming up to rub his face as Frankie chucked in all guns blazing.

"No, yes, for Christ sake Frankie. It's you I want to be with, you and only you. I never cheated on you, just manipulated a few things to get a result." Reaching for Frankie's hand but she jerked it away.

"Boyd, do you even get why I'm upset? Why I'm hurt by your actions?" Her voice soft and low now.

"You know I'm shit at this, the talking, the explaining. It was work, Frankie." Like saying it was work was the answer to everything.

Frankie closed her eyes again, digging the heels of her hands into her eyes, stopping the sting before it could progress to tears.

"What can I do to make it right?" Placing his hand on her leg and squeezing gently.

Frankie removed her hands from her face and looked directly at Boyd, the first tear rolling down her cheek. Frankie didn't cry. Frankie was tough, strong, independent. Frankie didn't do emotions.

"Aww shit, Frankie." Knowing if Frankie was crying it hurt her deeply.

Boyd wasn't a man for words, he normally let actions do his talking. Watching Frankie cry made him move, his protective streak kicking in as he moved to wrap his arms tightly around Frankie and pulled her to him. Frankie considered pulling away, screaming at him for hurting her like he had but she didn't. Instead, she folded into him, the emotions of the last few days coming to a head. Her face buried in his shirt, his arms securely around her, she cried, silent body shaking sobs.

He held her, kissed her hair, her temple, anywhere he could reach. He slipped one of his hands under her pyjama top and splayed his palm across her back. He was a bastard, a complete and utter first-class bastard. He had hurt her both professionally and personally, personally being the worst. He just hadn't thought, hadn't considered the implications to his actions other than solving the case. Now he was facing the consequences, the woman in his arms sobbing.

Frankie cried, she couldn't help it. He had hurt her before, many years ago when things were different. She knew what he was like then, knew what he was like now. There wasn't much of a difference between then and now, other than now he wasn't attached. She had loved him back then, and she loved him now. She wasn't sure if she had even stopped, not really. She felt the tears drying, and the sobs subsiding to nothing. He continued to hold her, the fingers on her back now making small patterns on her bare skin. She could feel his lips lightly pressed to her temple, his breath ghosting across her skin making her shiver.

Slowly she moved, tilting her head back so she could look up at him.

"Hey," She managed to say, her brown eyes meeting his.

"Hi." He replied, placing a kiss to the centre of her forehead.

"I'm sorry." The words coming automatically after she had cried all over him.

"What are you sorry for? I'm the one that should be saying sorry, I'm the bastard here. You did nothing wrong, other than agree to go out with me." Smiling as he saw Frankie smile

"Yeah, twice. There must be something wrong with me, coming back for more." The smile still on her face showing him she wasn't serious.

"Definitely something wrong, maybe you need to talk with Grace, discuss your issues." Feeling Frankie thump his shoulder at the suggestion.

"Been there, done that, and I'm still here." The last words coming out slurred as she yawned.

"Let's go to bed, see if you can get some sleep." He suggested as he kissed her one last time on the forehead and went to sit up.

Frankie grumbled at being moved but did take the pre-offered hand as Boyd stood up. He left her at the foot of the stairs, doing his usual check of the doors and windows before joining her again. He let her go upstairs first, one because he was a gentleman, and two he got to watch her arse. When they reached the top of the stairs Frankie went straight to the bathroom while he went into the bedroom. He turned down the bed, fluffed up the pillows, then stripped off his shirt and pants, throwing them across the room into the laundry basket.

When he joined Frankie in the bathroom she had just finished brushing her teeth, her face already washed and dried. She stepped back from the sink and started to brush out her hair, the messy ponytail removed leaving her hair touching her shoulders. Boyd brushed his teeth, glancing in the mirror at Frankie as he did. When she was done Frankie replaced the brush on the bathroom cabinet and left him alone. He looked at his reflection in the mirror. He saw the grey hairs at his temples, the slightly fat lip he had from when Benjamin Gold had punched him. There was also the scars that littered his chest, the knife wound from being stabbed, the bullet wound where it skimmed his side. He had definitely looked a damn sight better. Then again, there must be something about him, something that seemed to attract women to him, both young and old. He shook his head, he just couldn't understand the appeal.

When he joined Frankie in bed she was lying on her side, her back towards him. He could see her bare shoulders, her pyjamas removed for bed. Frankie very rarely wore anything for bed, unless it was really cold of course. As he went to cuddle up behind her she turned over, which stopped him from turning on his side. Frankie moved so she had her head on his chest, one of his arms tucking around her shoulders while the other went around her waist. She placed her arm across his waist, her leg slotting in between his. Her fingers moved across his scar from where he was stabbed, stroking the slightly raised and jagged skin.

"Frankie, can I ask you something?" Turning his head so his breath brushed her hair.

"Sure." Frankie yawned.

"What is it about me? What do all these women see in someone like me? It's not like I'm young, or good looking. I just don't get it, I'm not even trying to be attractive, or flirty, or anything. I'm just me." Seeing Frankie consider his question carefully.

"You're you, that's enough. Everyone wants to tame you, see if you really are a grumpy bastard, or if your bark is worse than your bite. You don't have to do anything, just being you is enough to attract me." Smiling up at him as he watched her.

"Thanks, great analogy." Pulling her closer as he closed his eyes.

"Night, Boyd." Frankie managed to say in between yawns.

"Night, Frankie." Pausing before he finished speaking. "I love you." The last bit being a mere whisper.

"Love you too." Frankie slurred out, sleep already tugging at her body and mind.

They had had their disagreements in the past, but this was there first as a couple, first major one anyway. He never wanted to see her cry again, or be the one responsible for the tears. As sleep took over his tired brain, he promised himself, and her, he would do everything he could to never ever make her cry again.


End file.
